A Christmas Charm
by LoopyZoop
Summary: Draco Malfoy only mildly identifies himself with Ebeneezer Scrooge. Still, he probably shouldn't have gotten engaged to a man who can be found with a box of tinsel under one arm, decking the halls with boughs of holly with the other on the 22nd day of November. Bickering and fluff ensues. (EWE)


"Put that down."

Those were the first words that Harry heard after his fiancé came through the door, shaking off the weather and hanging up his coat on the rack. He seemed tired, but content - that is until his eyes rested upon the offending Christmas wreath that in Harry's hands. It was inches away from being hung up on the wall in place of a painting.  
"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, barely giving Draco a courtesy glance over the shoulder as he took another step up on the ladder. He was too busy trying to get the damn thing centered to bother, and he scrunched up his nose in concentration.

"I said," Draco started, pulling his wand from his back pocket. He quickly levitated the wreath high out of arms reach, pulling it towards him and safety from being displayed. "Put that down."

"Well... " Harry blinked in surprise when he stepped down on to level ground. Apparently this was no laughing matter, but he couldn't help but smile. "I can't do that now, you stole it from me."

Draco shook his head. He was exasperated, although he had seemed fine until he came into the living room. His hair was still damp from the snow rain mix and he was still sporting his work shirt and tie, but now he also wearing a frustrated 'do-what-I-say-or-else' look that was equal parts irritating and sexy. In the 10 months that they had spent living together Harry had come to understand a lot of looks that Draco possessed, along with a lot of the things that tended to bother him... and whatever this had to be new.  
"Care to tell me what your problem is?" Harry said, leaning against the arm of the couch with his eyebrows raised. He knew Draco could be grouchy , but surely he couldn't be a complete Scrooge. He just didn't have it in him.

Draco rolled his eyes, plunked the wreath back down in the box of Christmas decor that Harry rummaged out of the attic, before he straightened himself and looked down the bridge of his nose. Clearly, he was trying to look threatening - which might of course work on some people - but not Harry. "It is November," he said coolly.

"And?"

He grunted, tucking his wand back away and starting for the kitchen. "And I will not have you decorating my house like a bloody window in Diagon Alley when my desire to go near anything merry or bright is at least twenty-five days away. Put it back."

Harry followed him, a small smile playing at his lips. There was no actual edge to Draco's voice and he knew he had wiggle room to be obnoxious - which he usually was. He leaned up against the door frame, full on grinning and doing nothing to hide it from the blonde that was currently aggressively brewing himself a tea at the counter. "Malfoy," Harry said, knowing that it would get under Draco's skin even more if he scolded him using his last name. "Where on earth is your holiday spirit?"

At that Draco whirled around, an end of his simple silk shirt coming untucked from the dark jeans he had over it. "In December, where it bloody well should be! Along with yours - now go take those lights down," he commanded.

Harry shook his head and snorted. "You're crazy if you think I'm taking them down after how much time I spent just getting them fucking untangled. Are you aware that all of those things fit into a shoebox at one point? No, no way."

"That is not my fault," Draco said, leaving the kettle to boil and sagging against the counter finally. "So get working." He gestured a slender hand to the sitting room with a simple flick of his wrist.

Harry felt a small spark of anger light in his stomach and at that point the decision was made for him. He moved slowly - his steps just sedate enough to be suggestive as he wandered towards Draco. It was a painfully alluring saunter with his weight leaning back on his heels that he had mastered ages ago, and it always managed to make Draco either more agitated or make him completely stop in the middle of his sentence, gulping down a breath of air and fixing the dark haired man with a nervous but watchful gaze.  
"You are seriously kidding yourself if you think you're going to wreck my festive mood," Harry pronounced each word carefully and steadily. "Especially if you expect me to go and undo all the work I did."

"Harry Potter, you-" Draco began indignantly, but he was interrupted by a gentle and soft kiss on the lips, their bodies pressed together against the cold kitchen counter. The only light came from a small lamp on the book case in the dining room and the pale winter light streaming in the window. Blurs of snowflakes danced in the bitter wind outside, but it was likely to melt by the next morning. Draco's eyes fluttered shut and he sighed against Harry's mouth, trying hard to fight back a delighted smile that made its way to the surface anyways. In any other place he could keep it together, but not there. "That's not fair," the blonde managed to mumble finally, slipping a hand between them. "You don't get to do that."

Harry laughed and pressed his forehead against his, pushing back against Draco's chest at the same time. "Then you don't get to pick when my decorations go up or ruin my Christmas-y mood," he countered, only vaguely hearing the kettle whistle behind them.

When Draco turned around and poured the boiling water out into a dark grey ceramic mug he grumbled to himself, "Well you never warned me you were a lights and wreaths and tinsel man. I should've known, all you do is wear those horrific Christmas sweaters all the time..." He dunked the teabag in carefully, making a point of not facing back to him.

"Draco, everyone on earth is a lights and wreaths and tinsel person - except for you of course, because you're a grumpy old man, apparently..." Harry knew that the affectionate annoyance would be flashing across the other man's face and he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. He looked over to the decorated room through the door and sighed. "You really can't expect me to put all of that away now, can you?"

Draco huffed to himself when he turned, cradling the cup and looking up to the ceiling. "Well not now that you've managed to make me feel guilty as all hell."

"So it worked."

Draco regarded him with mild irritation once again, his lips pursed into a fine line. "No, don't push it," he replied his tone was all bark and no bite. Harry stepped back and raised his hands defensively anyways, still beaming.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he said. "And hey - you can help me string these lights over the living room window, yeah? I've still got loads of work to do and I could really use a second pair of hands..."

A sharp laugh echoed in response, and Draco shook his head. He didn't look the least bit apologetic, and he rested a warm hand on Harry's shoulder. "That," he responded, "You can most certainly do on your own," His smooth expression finally cracked and his eyes crinkled with his smile, and whatever stress from the day, or coming home, or letting himself be taken advantage of by Harry Potter pretty much melted away in that instant. He decided on taking his tea and heading down the hallway with him was the best bet - maybe he could catch a cat nap before dinner and wake up when the decorating fiasco had come to a close. He nestled the steaming mug close to his body and ambled away, only pausing to call over his shoulder: "And by the way, Potter, next year you can at least buy us a decent wreath."


End file.
